Speaking in Tongues – Chapter 7 – Celticas

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8 Minutes

Harry walked out.

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t look at anyone. He just stood up and walked out, ignoring Satu calling out for him. Guivi said something to her that Harry didn’t understand and she stopped calling his name.

Allowing his feet to take him where they willed, he wasn’t surprised when he found himself in the disused classroom he had organised to meet Draco, Hermione and Parkinson in. They weren’t the only ones in the room though. Hermione was by the windows with Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones while Draco and Parkinson were sitting with Theo Nott closer to the door.

It looked like they were all doing homework. The scratch of quills and quiet murmurs of questions and answers the only sounds. It was peaceful in a way Harry would normally appreciate. In that moment though, Satu’s words were disrupting any calm he might have found. Hermione glanced up at his entrance. Drawing Susan and Hannah’s attention. The two Hufflepuffs were only confused for a second before realising Hermione must have introduced him to their study space. They turned back to their work.

Hermione gathered up her things and held them without bothering to properly put them away. It was unlike her. How much of his confusion and anxiety was he displaying to the world?

Draco and Parkinson were doing their best to ignore everything that was going on around them. They had glanced up at his entrance, Draco had sneered, and then they had turned back to their work.

His best friend was standing in front of him saying… something… He couldn’t hear! He could see her mouth moving, he could see the energy shooting through the nerves and muscles of her face that was pulling it into an expression of deep concern. But he couldn’t hear what she was saying to him.

She wrapped a hand around his wrist after dropping her armful onto an empty desk. Hermione didn’t go far. Two doors down into what would have once upon a time been a professor’s office. All of the furniture was covered in dusty drop cloths. With a flick of her wand, the cloths were folded in a corner. A second swirl had the dust lifting up and flowing out a cracked window. Finally, she shot a repairo at the cracked glass and they had a clean and weather proof place for her to glare at him in silent demand.

Harry could feel his guide getting closer.

The tingle up his spine made him turn just as the door opened and the two Slytherins slipped into the room and locked the door behind them.

“What’s wrong?” Draco demanded. A wave of psionic energy flowed between them as if the guide thought he could divine the answer for himself. A cat shimmered into being at Draco’s feet. Its round, golden eyes glared up at him in perfect imitation of its bonded.

Azhdaha bumped his head against the cat’s chin. Trying to reassure it. The dragon’s delight at the thick soft fur was announded to the room in a trilling hiss that was pure joy. He wasn’t saying anything that Harry could understand, but Harry could see the shifts in muscle and skin as the reptile worked himself closer to the cat. It seemed to be the main relationship between the two spirit animals.

“I’m sick of being different.” Harry muttered angrily. “Of being a freak.” He spat the hated word.

Hermione flinched. She knew the significance of the word. In the dark of a midnight a week after he had sent his best chance of getting away from the Dursley’s into an uncertain future as a fugitive, he had broken. A lifetime of horror flooding out of him and into his best friend. They hadn’t spoken of it since, but he had felt her eyes on him several times through the end of last year and at the beginning of this one.

The other two didn’t know.

Draco could feel the reaction Harry had to saying it. But didn’t have the context to understand the feelings that were racing down the bond. Parkinson didn’t even have that. She watched them all with shrewd eyes. Letting the scene play out in front of her.

“You are not!” Hermione said sharply. “You are my friend. My first friend. My best friend.” She reminded him.

“You are my sentinel.” Draco added.

“You might be a freak.” Parkinson said uncaringly.

Hermione and Draco both turned on the girl.

“Freak just means not normal, ” She flicked her sharply straight hair over one shoulder. “and normal is boring. Why would any of you want to be normal?” She sneered. “We are wix. You two,” she gestured at Draco and Harry, “are a magical SG pair. Granger is whatever she is, and I’m awesome.”

Harry couldn’t help the bark of startled laughter at the egotistical confidence. 

 “And I’m a Shaman.”

Three mouths dropped open in shock.

“I didn’t think Sentinels could be shamans?” Hermione said even if it sounded like a question.

“Wix ones can but it’s rare. Almost so rare to be a myth.” Draco answered anyway. “There are rumours of one in Australia or New Zealand, but that’s it. Shaman Guides are more common, about 1 in 5,000 wix guides compared to the 1 in 20,000 muggle guides.”

“See not a freak. Just really bloody rare.” Hermione’s smile was weak.

“As interesting as this interpersonal emotional blood letting is,” Parkinson sneared, “aren’t we here to discuss the scroll of magnitudinal fuckery?”

“Right.” Draco and Hermione both pulled their copies out. “I had a free class this afternoon before Ancient Runes.” Draco explained as he rolled the scroll out and then a second one that Harry hadn’t seen before next to it. “We were right, it’s a magnitudinal syphon. The longer it was in place, the more magic it was pulling out.” He pointed to the bits he was talking about as if he expected Harry to understand what he was looking at.

“What’s this bit?” Hermione asked. “I haven’t had as much time to look at it.” She excused herself as if she needed to explain.

“It’s the magical signature of the person who is at the other end of the syphon.” Draco explained carefully. His silver eyes dark with worry.

Harry could feel it through the bond that was thrumming with tension between them. Their two spirit animals were curled up together, watching the humans.

Harry figured out the source of the tension. “I’m not going to blame you for whatever it is you figured out.”

“I’m not certain yet.” Draco hurried to say. “Magical signatures are unique to an individual, but they aren’t things we just go around knowing about each other.”

“They are like DNA Harry. We all have it, but it takes specialist knowledge to read it and tell the difference.”

Hermione’s explanation was probably horrifically simplistic, but it helped.

“But you suspect who it is?” Harry pushed. If it was as simple as anyone in the world could be at the other end, Draco wouldn’t be acting so squirrally.

“There is only one person I know who is strong enough, and smart enough to have set this abomination in place who also had access to you as a child. Well, there are two, but only one makes sense.” Draco explained.

“Malfoy?” Hermione asked. She didn’t know enough about the theory of magic to be able to reach the conclusion that Draco had.

“Dumbledore.” Draco said. His cat whined sadly. “I mean, it could be the Dark Lord.” He hurried to say. “But, if it was, I imagine he would have had the power to return years ago.”

“It’s Dumbledore.” Harry said with dread certainty. He stuck his glasses in his hair and rubbed his hands across his face roughly. “Fuck!” He wanted to cry. “How do I fight that?”

“You don’t have to.” Hermione said. “It’s broken. That’s why you melted the lock in Charms. You’ve never had access to all of your own power before.”

“What happened in Charms?” Parkinson had draped herself over the Professor’s chair. Her legs over one arm and her feet swinging freely.

Harry left Hermione to explain it to the two Slytherins. He needed to wrestle his emotions back under control before he started accidentally lighting the world on fire. The sound of the other three talking was swinging quieter and louder as his hearing spiralled out of his control. Quickly his sight followed. He could see Hagrid out the window. He watched as the Gameskeeper ambled through the thick shadows at the base of the Forbidden Forest.

“Pull it back.” A voice whispered in his ear though it felt like a shout. “Can you see the smudges on the glass where it hasn’t been cleaned?”

Harry turned his attention to the window. The voice was right, the dirt was so thick he shouldn’t have been able to see out of it.

“That’s good. Now focus on my voice.”

It was Draco. With his hand resting lightly on one shoulder, he was a line of warmth down Harry’s back.

“Good. Now look at me.” A new worry had replaced the uncertainty of explaining what he had figured out. “This isn’t something we need to worry about tonight. Whatever is going on, it had been going on for a long time. Right now, you just need to focus on your senses, learning about being a Shaman, and how to control your magic.”

The two girls were standing behind Draco nodding their agreement.

“We will all help with all of that.” Hermione promised.

“However we can.” Pansy agreed.

= + =

“Harry.” Draco called as they were getting ready to go their separate ways after working on his control for an hour or more. “Wait for a second.”

Hermione and Pansy disappeared down the corridor together.

“I need to say this, but I don’t want you to think it is for any reason other than its the truth and you deserve to know.” Draco babbled.

Harry gently grasped Draco’s elbow and pulled him in slightly. He rested his other hand on his guide’s waist. “I promise not to get angry.” It was an easy promise to make.

“Weasle… Ron… you can’t trust him.”

“I know.” Harry agreed easily, smirking at the stunned fish look it brought to Draco’s face. Harry darted in and pressed a kiss against the corner of his open mouth. And then instantly flushed red in embarrassment. “Sorry, I should have asked. Was that okay?”

“What? Yes. What?” Draco closed his eyes and shook himself. “Yes.” He said. “That was okay. As much as I would like to discuss that more, can we please go back to Weasley though. I don’t think we have long before the girls come back to hunt us down.”

“I know that Ron is a jealous git. It wasn’t too bad until this year, and he was my first friend. But he went off the handle about the Goblet. And then just expected me to forget it today. He reeks of jealousy and greed.”

“Oh. Okay. Good.” Draco flushed. “Be safe.” It was a demand.

“You too.” Harry risked another quick kiss before pulling away. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Harry promised before ducking away. He could feel Draco’s eyes on him until he turned a corner. And even then he could feel the amusement down the bond.